


on mind reading and its (less than positive) consequences

by wartransmission



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkwardness, Introspection, M/M, Second person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission/pseuds/wartransmission
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason people say that communication is key to a functional and successful relationship.</p><p>Oikawa, for all his astuteness in a game, is a bit slow when it comes to understanding that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on mind reading and its (less than positive) consequences

**Author's Note:**

> In response to Oiiwa Week's Day 2 prompt:  
> "Happiness is holding someone in your arms and knowing you held the whole world." - Orhan Pamuk

You wake up slow, mind groggy, vision blurred by sleep when you try to open your eyes. Everything processes through your brain in bits- slivers of sunlight peek through the shutters over your window, warmth pressing close to your left side, cool air over your feet peeking out from the blankets-, and it takes a while for you to realize that what’s holding you down to the bed are Iwa-chan’s muscled arms.

 _Iwa-chan_ , you sleepily think to yourself, smiling as you turn to rest on your side to get a better look of his face. He’s lying on his right, facing you, with his arms warm around your waist as he sleeps. It’s surprising that you managed to wake up before him at all, considering how late you always- _almost_ always, because whenever Iwa-chan is at home he makes sure you sleep early with him- sleep as compared to him. He’s a healthy boy with healthy habits, eats his vegetables without complaint and sleeps early if he doesn’t have a deadline to meet for university work; you, on the other hand, take far too many risks than are feasible, which is probably the exact reason why your mother was so gung ho about you moving in with him when you went off to start your university life.

You haven’t told her yet, that there’s something different between you and Iwa-chan now.

You have a feeling that she already knows.

“Ngh,” Iwa-chan grunts, squeezing his arms around you as he presses close. He lowers his head as he goes, fitting himself under your chin, and you stifle a giggle. Iwa-chan wouldn’t allow any cuddling if he were awake, always thinking it too affectionate or too uncomfortable, so he’d probably put up a big fuss about the position you’re in if you make a wrong move and wake him. _It’s too bad,_ you think, pouting a little as you press a kiss to the top of his head. You can understand that he still feels awkward about the whole dating thing, and you can understand that he’s not as open to affection as other people are, but…you can’t help from feeling a teensy bit disappointed that he won’t allow you even this. Looking at it from an outsider’s point of view, it’s almost like you’re not even _together_ , and he’s just putting up with a roommate and best friend who happens to be touchy-feely, instead of his _boyfriend._ Which you _are_ \- or you like to _think_ that you are, because what else would it mean when the two of you have admitted to having feelings beyond platonic affection?

 _Enough of that_ , you grumble to yourself, wrinkling your nose in annoyance at the less than positive thoughts coming unfiltered through your mind. _It’s too early to make myself feel sad because of stupid things._

“-kawa...”

You twitch in surprise at the sound of your name from Iwa-chan’s lips. “Iwa-chan?” you ask hesitantly, looking down at him, before gingerly bringing up a hand to run dull nails over his scalp.

“Shut up,” the words come out in a slur, words mere vibrations against your chest as he leans into the touch. You bite back a smile, pressing your lips together in restraint as you card your fingers through his hair. He’s not really awake yet; you can tell from how he’s mumbling his words, the sleepy squint of his eyes, and the arms he still has wrapped around your waist. He murmurs, “Y’r thoughts’r too loud.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper back, folding your other arm and slipping it under your head and over your pillow. “Go back to sleep, Iwa-chan. We don’t have any classes today.”

“Good,” he yawns in reply- a _kittenish_ meow, you think while pressing your lips firmer together, trying not to laugh- before giving his arms around you another squeeze, then huffing out another breath just as he slips back into slumber.

 _I love you_ , you think, desperately, hoping he understands as you gently run your hand through his hair and down, carefully cupping his cheek with your thumb tracing circles over his skin. _I love you_ , you think again, clenching your eyes shut and breathing in, before pressing another kiss into his hair. Does he even understand just how much he means to you? Does he know just how much he’s _changed_ you, made you better, made you _happier_ just by staying at your side? Does he know that the reason you ask to sleep in the same bed with him isn’t because you miss your childhood days with him, because you miss having someone close, but because you just want _him_ near?

You suck in a breath, before slowly letting out a sigh. You pull your hand back- Iwa-chan makes a noise of complaint and your heart _hurts_ \- and hesitate, hand raised in mid-air as you consider what to do. Iwa-chan would most definitely complain once he woke if he found you hugging him, but the need to hold him close is so deeply ingrained into your bones that you can’t help from _wanting_ it.

You take the risk, because the sting of having Iwa-chan push you away in the early afternoon is something you can handle. You can grant yourself this much, can’t you? It’s just…it’s nothing more than an embrace. There’s nothing wrong with that.

You rest your arm over his shoulder, tucking him into your chest, and he makes a sound so soft and satisfied that you feel your insides tremble for a moment. _I love you,_ you think, smiling as you squeeze your arm lightly around him. _You’re mine_ , you think as you pull the covers up over his shoulders, before resting your hand over his back, _and I’m yours._

_I hope you know that, Iwa-chan._

 

* * *

 

You wake up to Iwa-chan still in your bed, _awake_ , and he greets you with an amused smile when you blink your eyes open to stare at him.

He’s probably laughing internally at the shocked and confused look on your face, which you are _allowed_ to feel because- because he’s still here. He’s still _here_ , and his arm is resting over your waist, and he’s laughing-

“Why do you look so surprised? We don’t have any classes today, there’s no need to hurry,” he says, as if things are that simple, as if he hasn’t hurt your feelings when he pushed your hands away before. Then he raises his hand and you tense up on instinct, feeling cautious because you’re unsure of what he’s going to do, until your heart almost _freezes_ because he uses it to brush away the stray locks on your face. “Unless you’re hungry? I’ll go and cook someth-”

“No,” you blurt out, hand clutching onto his wrist before he can pull it away, “no, _stay_.”

He raises an eyebrow in bemusement. “Okay..?”

“Why,” you say before you can help yourself, licking your lips as you try to string your words together and lowering his hand until it’s resting near your chest, “why don’t you let me hug you, Iwa-chan?”

“Uh?” He blinks, before squinting at you like you’ve smoked something and he’s concerned about your sanity, “Because it’s hot as hell? And I don’t like PDA, you know that.”

“Then, in bed…”

“That’s fine, I guess,” he admits, pulling his hand back away from you to nervously scratch at his cheek. “I mean, that’s a thing c-couples do, right? So that’s…fine.”

“Then why?” you ask, nervousness a balled-up piece of cotton blocking your dry throat, “We did this before, and I- I tried to hug you. You pushed me away.”

A look of alarm crosses over his face before fading into understanding, then embarrassment, and he says, “I…I was nervous, alright? It’s fucking embarrassing, getting hugged like that.”

You swallow. “Why?”

He wrinkles his nose in annoyance- you think it’s adorable, but you won’t say that out loud- and says, “You’re such an _idiot_. I don’t even let my mother hug me like that anymore; do you honestly think I’d be completely comfortable just- just going up to you and hugging you?”

“It’s fine for me, though.”

He huffs. “That’s because you’re _you,_ Shittykawa. And it feels…weird. My stomach can’t take it.”

You blink. “Your…stomach.”

“It feels funny, alright?! Fuck, take a hint!” he snaps, pushing himself up with both arms before sitting with his back pressed against the headboard. “It gets sort of- squirmy, I don’t know,” he groans, hiding his face in his hands as he folds his knees up to his chest. “Hugging you like that for no reason makes me want to run a marathon.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

You let the smile grow on your face, gradual and probably far too smug, as you crawl closer to him. “So, you feel giddy?”

He looks at you. He squints askance like he isn’t sure if he should admit to it, before mumbling through pursed lips, “…yeah.”

You can’t help a grin at that. So all this time, all of those moments when you thought he didn’t want you in the same way that you wanted him, he was just too _nervous_ to reciprocate the affectionate gestures. You don’t know if it’s possible to have your heart explode from feeling too much happiness, but you’re getting the feeling that it might not be that improbable going by the pleasurable ache in your chest.

You don’t want to explode though, so you tamp the feeling. Just a little.

“It’s because you love me, you know,” you say, getting to your knees so you can hug him properly from the side. He stiffens at first, looking at you like you’re going to snap at him, before gradually relaxing when you start to run a hand through his hair. “Your stomach feels weird because you love me so much that you get _excited_ just from hugging me,” you add matter-of-factly, smiling even when he huffs in response.

“That’s ridiculous,” he grumbles, embarrassment painting a light red over his cheeks as he turns his face away from you.

“What other explanation do you have?” you ask, leaning to the side so you can get a good look of his face.

He doesn’t say anything, though you can tell that the irritation is simmering under his skin from how deeply he’s frowning. The silence ticks on for almost a minute with him just leaning against you, his nose wrinkled in annoyance, and you grin again because he clearly doesn’t have an answer to your question. “It’s not really that ridiculous, Iwa-chan,” you say, nuzzling your cheek into his hair, “I think it’s cute.”

“I hate you so much.”

You laugh, grinning still when he deliberately rests all of his weight against you as he leans to his side. “I love you too, Iwa-chan.”

_I’ll try to understand that you don’t think in the same way that I do. I’ll try to understand that you’re still new to this, that you’re still trying to figure your way around it, but you still love me._

You smile softly when Iwa-chan pries one of your hands away to twine his fingers with yours, fitting right into the spaces between your digits like they were always meant to be there.

_We’ll be okay._

 


End file.
